


Mine

by xanster



Series: Deja Vu No Matter The World [19]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gang Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2018-12-04 03:20:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11546424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xanster/pseuds/xanster
Summary: There's only one rule:Do not touch what's his.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Yunho's DROP stage + BoA's CAMO song.

_Tick tock._

 

The room is windowless, its sound-proofed walls mute to the things that take place within.

Some men in tailored suits and polished shoes stand against the walls, backs ramrod straight. Hands clasped in front of them. 

 

There's a woman in the middle, standing, head held high.

Her makeup is impeccable. 

Kohl-lined eyes and blood-red lips, a contrast to the paleness of her skin.

Her long hair is tied up in a high ponytail, and hangs low down her back.

The men watch her; the air in the room, a mixture of fear, dread and admiration.

Her right hand is tight around around a long leather whip.

 

Beside her man in a hood, hands bound behind his back.

He is topless, and kneeling. 

Cold sweat trickles down his face.

 

He  _shouldn't have_ but he  _didn't know_.

That wasn't good enough.

It never is and never will be.

 

_Tick tock._

_He_ sits in a chair, watching the scene in front of him.

His own casual suit caresses the curves of his sculptured, lean body down the lengths of his long pants that end at his ankles, a nod to his youth.

His white shirt hangs half open on his broad frame, with a black skinny tie loosened around his collar. 

His pianist-like fingers tap slowly against his temple, as though counting the seconds in the room, a dreadful silent prelude to what is to come.

His features, sharp like a cat's have drawn in many a person, both men and women.

But cross him, and there won't be a starker horror than to face his wrath.

His own sheer loyalty and brand of authenticity in this world has won him allegiance in many a circle; but it is his compassion for his men and yet contrasting brutality that has won him  _respect_ from even his enemies.

The difference being _them_ and him? - his people would willingly  _die_ for him, knowing he would  _never demand it of them_ _._

 

The rise of the youngest ever mafia boss in South Korea.

Appointed as successor to the biggest ever syndicate in East Asia after standing by his old boss through a terrifying gangwar that even caused the downfall of the Justice Minister. 

And yet he had skilfully maneuvered the syndicate through it all.

In return, 200 over men had pledged their allegiance through blood tokens to his side. 

 

And all he demanded in return, was that  _no one touch what is mine_. 

'Mine' being his property, his syndicate members, his family and his _man._

 

The man on the ground  _had not known_ of that last part. 

 

His almond eyes are sharp and observing. 

He can smell the fear off the man on the floor; the anticipation from his men.

 

He crooks his neck, and slowly rotates his head, shrugging off the stiffness in his back.

Then he returns his gaze to BoA who stands waiting for his signal.

She catches sight of his look and nods.

 

She turns to the man on the ground and

_PHWAP._

The sudden crack of the whip causes several men to jump and the man on the ground to scream.

BoA is skilled and a master at what she does; his very capable right-hand woman. 

She repeats the action and the man cries out again, red welts already forming across his back. 

 

 _He_ does not even blink as he watches.

 

_Tick tock._

 

Then the door opens.

 

And BoA pauses, she almost rolls her eyes but she doesn't. 

Amusement quirks at the corner of her mouth though.

 

A tall man with wavy hair and bangs that lie to the side, comes in.

He's dressed in a shirt and jeans; almost looking out of a place in a room dominated by severity and savageness.

However, the men in the room and beyond know better than to underestimate his toughness and woe is them if he is displeased.

His sharp wit, intelligence and the  _protection_ that marks him; of who he is and who he  _is with_. 

He walks over to the man in the chair who does not even turn around, but one can almost sense a relaxing in the seated man's countenance at the other's presence.

 

'Changmin,' comes the first words spoken in this room, spoken in a low tone.

The newcomer, Changmin, runs his hand across the shoulder of the seated man and ends up rubbing gently at the other's neck. 

The man finally gets up and stands, just slightly shorter than the younger man, faces up close.

Changmin puts his arms around his neck and rests his head gently on the other's shoulder, closing the gap immediately.

 

'Hey. What are you doing?'

'Settling some business.'

 

Changmin sneaks a peek to the side and sighs.

 

'This wouldn't be the man that first grabbed my ass and then told me to know my place and shut up before he smashes my face in when I told him to back off, would it?' murmurs Changmin.

He feels his lover stiffen and quickly presses his lips to the older man's neck, calming the man back down.

 

'Yunho, he didn't know who I was.'

 

Yunho pulls away slightly, his arms still loose around Changmin's waist. 

 

'Not knowing does not mean being disrespectful, and not knowing isn't a valid reason,' growls Yunho softly. 

He could forgive many things but he did not allow for rudeness, especially not to  _Changmin_. 

 

Changmin laughs, his laughter a twinkle in the darkness of the atmosphere, eyes lighting up in a mismatched way as he shakes his head ruefully.

'You can't expect everyone to know when he meets a handsome guy in a club, that said handsome dude is the club owner's boyfriend.'

 

Yunho scoffs, not answering.

Changmin runs his hands up Yunho's jaw and pulls Yunho closer.

 

'Baby, be nice,' he whispers before he leans in and kisses Yunho deeply, licking his tongue into the other's mouth.

Yunho rolls his eyes, as he kisses back, knowing the punishment is over for now.

 

BoA smirks knowingly as she takes in the scene, relaxing her hold on the whip.

The men in the room remain unblinking, they are used to this and never once has their respect for both Yunho or Changmin faltered.

What happens between their two leaders is none of their business, and definitely, two men in love did not mean that they were less of a  _man_ or weaker.

BoA ensured they kept their opinions to themselves and stayed in line.

Any bullshit from any of them saw punishments like the one that was being carried out right now, or worse.

 

Changmin turns to the man who is kneeling on the floor, shivering by now.

'Take off the hood, please.'

BoA crooks her head at Yunho, who nods, and she does.

 

The shaking man, with tears falling down his eyes, looks up in fear.

 

He sees the gorgeous man he had tried to hit on and then threatened when he got rejected, standing there looking at him.

Except the man is standing in the embrace of another, whose eyes are dark and staring  back at him, as though he could see into his soul.

 

The man with the dark eyes slowly lowers his head and presses his mouth to the crook of the gorgeous man's neck.

Changmin automatically tilts his head slightly to give Yunho more access.

His left hand is pressed up against the side of Yunho's face, holding him to his neck as he sucks on a patch of skin.

Yunho raises his own and entwines his fingers with Changmin's.

Then his right hand sneaks down Changmin's torso and blatantly cups his crotch in a show of possession.

Changmin flinches at the touch and the man on the floor can almost see him hardening in arousal.

In response, Changmin reaches back, and kneads at Yunho's ass.

 

All the while, both men are still staring at the man on the floor. 

As  _one._

The kneeling man knows now more than ever who he had offended.

 

The mafia boss, Jung Yunho.

and the only one who he would personally  _kill_ for -

his lover, and his partner in the syndicate - Shim Changmin. 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Yours

_Blood gushes out, like a river stream._

_The man sits, topless. His six-pack, lined with rivulets of red._

_His hands are bound, his eyes are covered with a layer of silk._

_A man's tie._

 

_Formerly around the neck of the other that stands tall, watching him._

_But not a sound, no sign of defeat. Of surrender._

_Defiance. But barely holding on._

 

_"Speak."_

_It isn't a request; it is a command._

_The metal spanner drips with something thick and wet._

_It rises in the air._

 

_\---_

 

Changmin cries out as his legs are spread even wider.

Yunho's licking a stripe down his neck, to his Adam's apple, along his collarbone.

 _Mine_.

 

His shirt is pushed up to the top of his chest, baring his pecs.

Yunho growls and goes down on his nipple; licking and sucking.

 

Changmin's right hand tugs at his hair. 

 _Mine_.

 

\---

_The men shift restlessly in their positions as the metal spanner echoes dully against flesh._

_No._

_It's reached bone now._

 

_The figure on the chair screams._

 

_"How should I break you?"_

_The sentence is spoken softly, like to a baby._

_But it rings loud in everyone's ears._

 

_There are rules and then unspoken codes of conduct._

_Above all, there is honour, even in the underworld._

_And when there is betrayal, woe on you if you are caught._

_Run, run until you reach the end, and maybe hope to die._

_Dying would be better than facing the wrath of Jung Yunho._

 

_\---_

Changmin's thrown onto the couch, a welcome change from the wall he had been pushed against.

His pants have been pulled down, his cock standing proud.

 

He watches his lover, like a prey surrounded.

Yunho's eyes are dark and hooded over, his shirt is unbuttoned.

The scars that testify to his rise to the very top of the underworld in Korea can be seen.

And then the hint of the koi tattoo that marks him.

Marks him as the boss of the biggest ever syndicate in East Asia. 

 

It drapes down his left shoulder and down his back.

A koi and a dragon. 

 

And then a symbol; the symbol of a vow.

Carved with a needle and scarred over.

A blood oath of allegiance.

 

Yunho climbs over him and kisses him, thrusting his tongue into Changmin's mouth and sucking hard.

Saliva pools and drips; theirs is not a gentle kiss - not at this time.

Changmin holds Yunho to his face;

_Let it out._

 

Marks litter Changmin's neck already.

He lowers his head and curves up, leaving a few of his own on Yunho's.

Yunho snarls and flips Changmin roughly over.

His cock rubs up against Changmin's ass.

He jams his fingers into Changmin's mouth but it's open already and waiting.

 

Changmin sucks and licks, wetting the fingers the best he can.

He doesn't mind the pain or the lack of lubrication.

Not at this time.

It's for Yunho,  _it's always been._

 

Then he bends his head as Yunho starts fingering him open. 

_Yours._

_Take me._

 

_\---_

 

_BoA steps up next to Yunho as she watches the trembling figure in front of them._

_"Boss, you need to calm down."_

 

_She looks to the side, and sees Hojun nod in answer._

_He leaves quietly._

 

_Yunho is breathing hard, hand clutched tightly around the spanner._

_His white shirt is splattered with blood._

 

_"BoA. Donghae almost died because of this piece of shit."_

_"I know. Still, he hasn't spoken."_

_Footsteps sound behind him._

_Two people._

_Hojun and one more._

 

_BoA almost sighs in relief._

_They need the man alive - for now._

_"Listen Yunho, I'll take care of it. It's all going according to plan, Changmin did well."_

_Changmin. The brains of their syndicate, whose successful plan to capture the traitor had brought them here._

 

_Yunho feels a hand on his shoulder._

 

_He spits on the floor and turns away, marching out of the warehouse and into an office beyond._

 

_"Thank you BoA. Get what you need and put the fucker out of his misery." says a voice next to her._

_BoA nods, tapping her dagger on the palm of her hand._

_She glances to the side for a second as she watches Changmin follow where his leader had gone._

 

_\---_

 

The fingers are pulled out roughly and replaced by something, thicker, longer and hotter.

Changmin feels the pull and the ache and then it slams home, deep.

He cries out again. 

The thrusts continue.

 

_I could kill you._

Yunho thinks.

_This feels fucking good._

He looks down at Changmin's shoulderblade in front of him.

A smaller dragon stares back, partner to his own.

 

Sinking his teeth, he bites.

 

Blood.

 

Changmin grunts and pulls away.

Their eyes meet.

And then, a clash of teeth as their mouths meet again.

 

\---

When it's over, Yunho lies slumped in the sofa, hand over his eyes.

Changmin is panting, leaning into him.

He reaches up to gently kiss Yunho on the cheek.

 

On his wrist, the same symbol of allegiance is carved.

A symbol only two of them have.

 

"Feel better?"

Yunho merely grunts in response.

"You needed to calm down."

Yunho takes his hand away, and looks right at Changmin.

Changmin feels a shudder go through him - all these years and still, Yunho manages to suck him in with those eyes -

 

"Only you, I would only share this with you", he murmurs, as he bends down for a soft kiss, of apology and of something heartfelt.

 

_I would never betray you._

_I'm yours._

 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Fingers Around My Neck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> desire  
> verb de·sire \ di-ˈzī(-ə)r , dē- \
> 
> easily
> 
> the desire to own or dominate

The minute hand ticks on by.

_Tick. Tock._

 

I stand by the door, watching his silhouette framed by the ceiling-to-floor curtains that hang on the windows.

_Velvet. Dark red. The colour of blood. When they hang loose, not a sliver of light can sneak in._

A plume of smoke escapes him; curves its way around the back of his head. 

_Angular, shaped like a teardrop._

 

I was sent to him. A lost cat.

Abandoned by the woman that birthed me, and a father that merely fucked her once.

An accident.

I found my way on the streets; a runt. 

All I needed was myself.

 

I still remember that night.

It was raining.

A smartass decided he could try and rob me, a little brat with his nightly takings.

I only remember punching him until the skin of my knuckles came off.

And then a voice.

 

_Stop._

 

Him. A face, sharp and chiselled. 

His hair was wet from the rain.

An expensive-looking suit, the same kind that clothed the bodies of the perverts that walked the streets at night to play.

Beyond his shoulder, were a group of men.

Watching. Waiting.

For him.

 

He bent down and casually lifted my chin with a finger.

Then, I didn't understand why I didn't retaliate.

He wasn't a customer; nor one of the small bosses I ran for. 

But his touch ran chills down my spine.

His eyes.

_They bled into mine._

 

 

I left the streets that night.

 

\---

 

He turns around and stares at me.

_Of course, he knows._

 

Then he raises a hand and beckons.

My feet bring me over as they always do.

 

The years may have gone by, and though I am no longer that brat of 17 that was working the streets,

I still feel that mixture of tension, fear and deep, unfathomable attraction whenever I sense him near.

Although things and  _circumstances_ surrounding us have  _changed,_

The way I now slightly tower over him, the way I now open my mouth to speak, the way the men that follow him, now bow their heads to me -

Right to the way I cry out in between the sheets;

Although these have all  _changed_ ,

I still tremble when he calls out to me.

 

His breath is hot on my skin and I can smell the whisky and tobacco on his skin.

The finger that lifted my chin those years ago, now finds its way down my throat.

My Adam's apple quivers as the pressure increases.

I can feel the breath being squeezed lightly out of me as my lips curve open.

In want or surprise, I no longer know.

 

His long fingers curve their way around my neck.

He could kill me.

Simply put.

Suffocate the living oxygen out of my body;

Make me gasp and wail.

 

His right hand finds its way around my waist and inside my shirt.

I can feel myself getting hard.

 

He's still watching me.

Taking in all my different expressions and reactions.

I wonder how I look like to him.

Can he tell how much I want him?

Can he tell how easily I would die for him?

 

 _Take off my tie_.

 

The order is curt and simple.

 

The tie encircles the wearer's neck.

Its knot, a teasing invitation to either devour or be devoured.

As pretty as its design, it could seduce you in a second.

All I would need to do would be to  _tug._

Until the one on his knees, would be  _him._

 

_Begging for mercy._

_For his life._

_In my hands._

 

I smirk.

He still watches me.

His eyes go down to my lips.

I lick them,

Slowly.

 

Then I raise my hands, and pull.

A hitched breath.

 

_Tick. Tock._

 

Our mouths open as they come together, tongues battling for dominance.

His tie lies loose, flat against his shirt.

I remain pressed against him, the fronts of our pants betraying our mutual desire.

But not for long.

 

_We could kill each other._

_The thing was; we both would let the other._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
